Always Her Doctor
by chocolatequeen
Summary: John Tyler is a teacher at Farringham, but he's been dreaming of another life-the life of an adventure known as the Doctor. When Marion Smith appears in Farringham, he's immediately drawn to her. And why not? Marion Smith is the mirror image of Rose Tyler-the Doctor's wife. Reunion set during Human Nature/Family of Blood, with Christmas overtones. Will be six chapters long.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to 31 Days of Ficmas. I will be posting something new every day in December.**

 _The Doctor watched as the rays soared overhead. He had Rose's hand clasped firmly in his, and if he moved his thumb, he'd be able to feel her pulse beating in her wrist._

 _After Krop Tor, he needed the reassurance that she was still here beside him. After the threats of the Beast, he needed a promise that she wouldn't leave him._

 _He took a deep breath. "How long are you going to stay with me?"_

 _He felt Rose shift, and turned slightly to meet her gaze. The love in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees, but it was her promise that broke down the last of his walls._

" _Forever."_

 _The Doctor nodded, then licked his lips. "Then… would you… There's something Time Lords would do with their partners, and I'd like to share it with you, if you agree."_

 _Rose stepped closer to him and took both of his hands. "What is it, Doctor?"_

" _A telepathic bond. A permanent connection between our minds, tying us together for as long as we're both alive."_

 _The Doctor waited for Rose to decline, or ask for more information. A bond was far more than most humans ever considered, and Rose liked the privacy of her own mind._

" _Is that as intimate as it sounds?" Rose asked._

" _More than," the Doctor answered honestly. "It's… we would know each other completely, in a way most couples can't even imagine."_

 _She pursed her lips and looked up at him, a little furrow between her brows. "And… and you'd want that, with me?" she asked._

" _Oh, Rose." The Doctor brushed his knuckles over her cheekbone, then cupped her face in his hand. "I want it so much I ache," he confessed in a whisper._

 _Rose turned her head and pressed a kiss to his palm. "Then yes. If you want a bond with me, then I want it with you."_

It was still dark when a muffled thud in the corridor woke John Tyler from a sound slumber. He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, unsurprised to find his cheeks were damp. He often woke up crying when he dreamed of Rose.

Tonight though… this dream had been different. Instead of dreaming of white walls and barren beaches, he'd been transported to one of the happiest moments in the Doctor's life. He could still feel the joy in his hearts—heart, he amended—when Rose agreed to share her mind with him.

Despite the early hour, he swung himself out of bed. Experience told him that when he woke up from a dream of Rose, there was no going back to sleep. Instead, he pulled his dressing gown on and shuffled over to his desk.

John sat down and turned the lamp on, then reached into the drawer for the leather journal that held his most precious memories—no, his favourite dreams. He flipped slowly through the pages, filled mostly with images of his Rose.

Then he settled on a blank page and picked up his pen. He could still see the look of absolute joy and wonder on Rose's face as she and the Doctor had formed their bond, while the strange creatures flew overhead. Her wide smile, the shimmer of tears in her eyes, the way she'd gasped his true name after he'd whispered it into her mind…

And then, the feeling of her small hands on his collar, tugging him down as she pushed up on her toes to press her lips to his. John felt his cheeks heat up as he remembered the texture of her jacket beneath his palm when he pulled Rose as close as possible. He'd woken up tonight before the embrace had gone beyond a passionate kiss, but there had been other nights when his dreams had been decidedly more… lustful.

With an effort, he pushed those dreams to the back of his mind, refusing to give in to the temptation to draw Rose lying in his bed with kiss-swollen lips and passion-glazed eyes. It would be hard enough to explain this journal to anyone should they find it. Adding sketches of a naked woman would be beyond the pale.

Instead, he focused on adding as much detail to the scene from tonight's dream as he could, getting lost in that world, where he was a traveler and Rose was his…

A knock on the door pulled him back to reality, and he blinked a few times when he realised grey dawn light was coming in through the curtains. He stood up and reached for his dressing gown, then said, "Come in."

Martha pushed the door open, his breakfast tray in her hands. She paused when she saw him. "Pardon me, Mr. Tyler. You're not dressed yet. I can come back later."

John tied his dressing gown closed. "No, it's all right, it's all right." He shifted papers around on his desk to make room for his breakfast. "Put it down. I was…" He raked a hand through his hair, feeling the need to explain himself. Normally, he would be dressed and ready for classes before she arrived. "Sorry, sorry. Sometimes I have these extraordinary dreams."

Martha smiled uncertainly at the man who was, and yet was not, the Doctor. "What about, sir?" she asked as she set his tray down on his desk, then moved to open the curtains.

"I dream I'm this adventurer," Mr. Tyler explained. "This daredevil—a madman. The Doctor, I'm called."

Martha's hands shook as she opened the curtains on the other side of the room. "That's very creative, sir," she said, then went back to the desk to pour his tea.

Mr. Tyler hummed noncommittally, and Martha wracked her brain, looking for something to say that would rid him of the notion that he was actually a time travelling alien.

An journal on the desk distracted her. It was open to a portrait of a young woman, about Martha's age. "I didn't know you drew, sir," she said before she paused to consider if that was an appropriate thing for a maid in 1913 to say to her employer.

Mr. Tyler sighed, and a rock settled in Martha's stomach. Suddenly she knew what he was going to say, and she didn't want to hear it. The one good thing about spending three months in the past with a Doctor who didn't know who he was was that she wouldn't have to hear Rose's name every other day.

"That's Rose," he said, resting his fingers gently on the sketch. "Rose Tyler."

Martha's eyes widened; she'd never thought to wonder how he'd landed on Tyler as his human last name.

"She's there, in my dreams." He cleared his throat. "She's… well… the Doctor is an alien, but I suppose in human terms, you'd say Rose is his wife."

It was a good thing Martha had finished pouring the tea before John Tyler dropped that bombshell, or she would have dropped the pot.

oOoOo

Rose bent over when she came through the Void, trying to catch her breath after all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Even after ten trips with the dimension cannon, she still hadn't gotten used to the way it felt to be propelled from one universe to another.

But this time, as the lightheaded feeling passed, she felt another uncomfortable sensation dissipate along with it. The dull throbbing she'd felt between her temples from the moment the walls between the worlds had closed was gone.

The Doctor was close by.

Rose spun wildly, throwing out a telepathic greeting as she moved. _Doctor! Oh, God. Where are you?_

He didn't reply, and she realised almost immediately that he didn't even feel like he'd realised she was close by. In fact, he felt… distant, or off somehow. Almost like he was unconscious.

Rose put her hands to her temples and focused on the bond, trying to get a bearing. She started walking, adjusting her direction a few times as she got a better sense of where he was. Whatever was wrong with him, they could figure it out together, now that she was here.

A fine mist started after she had walked about a quarter of a mile, and it wasn't long before her jeans were soaked through and her hair was sticking to the side of her face. Rose sighed and wished in futility for a warm shower and dry clothes before being reunited with the Doctor.

Warmth radiated out from beneath her leather jacket, and her steps slowed. She reached inside her coat and pulled out the chain that carried her TARDIS key—the key that was now glowing.

Of course. If the Doctor was here, the TARDIS would be, too. A faint song hummed at the edge of her mind, coming from a slightly different direction than she sensed the Doctor was in. The idea of going home for that hot shower was tempting, but after a moment, Rose shook her head and took another step towards the Doctor. He wouldn't care if she looked like a drowned rat, and they'd waited for this reunion long enough.

She'd only gone a few more steps when the TARDIS' song swelled in her mind, and she knew the ship wanted her to come home first. Rose bit her lip, then changed direction. Maybe the ship's persistence was related to the slightly off feeling of the Doctor's presence over the bond.

The song led her to a small shed on the edge of a woody glen. Rose pushed the door open carefully, wishing she had her Torchwood-issued sidearm with her. Entering an unknown situation without backup or a weapon went against every bit of training she'd gotten in the last three years.

But outside of the tall, blue box standing in the middle of the shed, the building was empty. Rose's fingers shook as she pulled her key out for a second time, this time sliding it into the lock.

She blinked a few times when she stepped into the dark console room. But when she walked over to the console and reached for the light switch, the ship's hum changed from welcoming to warning.

Rose pulled her hand back. _Does this have something to do with why the Doctor feels wrong in my head?_

The hum pulsed slightly.

 _All right. Do you have enough power to heat water for my shower?_

The light to the corridor brightened, and Rose walked the familiar path to the bedroom she and the Doctor had shared. She paused at the door, bracing herself for the memories that lay on the other side.

Then she turned the knob and stepped inside. The Doctor's familiar scent hit her first, pulling her back to the nine months this room had been theirs, before she was trapped in Pete's World. Two ties were tossed haphazardly over her vanity, and she smiled, remembering the way he tended to drop his ties wherever they fell.

Looking around, she could tell at a glance that the room hadn't been used much since she'd been gone. Her makeup and jewellery was still strewn out on the vanity, just like she'd left it. The book she'd been reading was on her nightstand underneath a battered copy of _The Little Prince._ Judging by the depression in the pillow, the Doctor had slept on her side of the bed after losing her.

Rose blinked back tears as she stripped out of her wet clothes and climbed into the shower. She'd known the Doctor would take their separation hard, but it hurt to see evidence of how much he was struggling.

 _But I'm home now,_ she reminded herself as she combed her favourite conditioner through her hair. _I'm home, and I'll find him, and everything will be okay._

That belief was challenged when she stepped out of the shower and found an Edwardian dress hanging on the bathroom door. Rose stared at the garment, a subtle hint from the TARDIS about what she was about to step into, and wondered what on Earth the Doctor had gotten himself into this time.

oOoOo

Martha's numbness as she rode her bike down the lane had little to do with the early November chill.

The Doctor was _married?_

It was tempting to tell herself that John Tyler's dreams weren't real, that he was only imagining what he'd wished had been his life with Rose Tyler. But Martha was through with lying to herself about the Doctor's feelings. Whether he and Rose had actually been married, it was obvious he still loved her.

"He couldn't have said something, though?" Martha muttered as her path branched off towards the tiny shed the TARDIS was parked in. "Not one little mention that he'd been married?"

Her conscience pricked at her, reminding her that he _had_ told her he and Rose had been together, and he'd been very clear that she, Martha, would not be replacing Rose in his affections.

When she reached the ship five minutes later, Martha shook her head, trying to get rid of the self-pity clouding her thoughts. There was no point thinking about the Doctor and his love life right now anyway. Despite appearance, John Tyler was not the Doctor, and the Doctor wouldn't be back for another two months.

The TARDIS door creaked open, and Martha sighed when she stepped into the ship. Even with only the emergency power on, the ship still felt more familiar than anything she'd encountered in 1913. She ran her fingers over one of the coral struts, remembering the way the Doctor would stroke and caress the ship as he walked by.

Then she lifted her chin and turned back to the centre console. She'd come here for a reason, and it wasn't to get lost in her own memories. The Doctor's apparent memory recovery worried her, and she wanted to watch the video again to see if he'd covered that possibility.

But as she moved to turn the monitor on, a sound caught her ear and she froze. Footsteps. There was someone else in the TARDIS.

Martha looked around wildly for a weapon and lunged for the mallet the Doctor kept hanging from the console. She remembered green laser beams going over her head as she and the Doctor had run into the TARDIS, and she swallowed hard. A mallet wouldn't do her any good if the Family had found her.

She adjusted her hold on the mallet as a woman appeared at the end of the corridor. The stranger paused and stared at her, and Martha tilted her head, trying to pin down why she looked so familiar.

It only took her a moment—she'd just seen that face a few hours ago, sketched by the Doctor's hand. "You!" she gasped.

Rose's forehead wrinkled. "I don't think we've met." She pulled her hands out of the pockets of the navy blue coat she wore. "I'm—"

"You're Rose Tyler," Martha spat out. Maybe if she'd had more time to process the Doctor's marriage before meeting the wife who'd abandoned him, she could have been pleasant… but she hadn't had more time. "We've never met, but I've heard all about you."

Rose nodded and took another step, then pointed at the mallet. "D'you mind putting that thing down?" She shook her head. "I've told him over and over that she doesn't like being hit, but I see he still hasn't listened."

Martha started to obey, but then she remembered what the Doctor had told her about the Family. They could take over a body, living inside it.

She narrowed her eyes and hefted the weapon again. "How do I know you're really you?"

To her surprise, every light and whistle in the console room went off, just for a few seconds. Martha blinked against the sudden change in lighting, then blinked again when they were back in the half dark.

Rose was patting the wall. "Thanks, girl," she murmured, before looking at Martha. "Best character witness there is," she said. "If you can't believe a sentient, telepathic ship, who can you believe?"

Martha grunted and tossed the mallet down on the grating, then crossed her arms over her chest. She watched through narrowed eyes as Rose walked down the ramp to join her by the console.

"So you know who I am, but you still haven't told me who you are," Rose pointed out.

"Martha Jones." Rose started to hold her hand out to shake, but Martha stepped back from it. Rose's loss had devastated the Doctor, and Martha wouldn't let her pretend otherwise. "I've got to ask, what the hell are you doing here?"

Rose's smile disappeared. "I live here."

Martha heard the hint of warning in the other woman's voice, but she ignored it. "You _did_ live here," she corrected, "until you left the Doctor. I've spent the last nine months trying to put those pieces back together again. Do you even care how much losing you hurt him? He tried to get a Dalek to shoot him. Twice!" Rose's face paled, and Martha felt a spark of vindictive pleasure at scoring a hit.

Then the muscle in Rose's jaw flexed, and Martha felt the balance of power shift. "I didn't _leave_ the Doctor," Rose hissed. "We were separated, and I got trapped in a parallel universe without any way to get home." Fire glinted in her eyes as she strode forward and leaned down over the railing. "I didn't leave the Doctor, Martha. I never would."

Martha took a step back at the vehemence in her voice. She'd never been able to figure out why the Doctor was so hung up on someone who'd left him. Suddenly, she had the feeling that there was a piece of the puzzle she'd been missing.

"But he said you were with your family, and happy," she protested.

Rose pressed her lips into a thin line, and for the first time, Martha thought she saw a hint of tears in her eyes. "I was with my family, yeah. Mum, stepdad, and recently a baby brother. But that doesn't mean I was happy."

For a moment, Rose was lost in memories of three years spent away from her home and her husband. Three years of waking up alone, of wondering if she'd ever see him again, of living with a constant headache left by the broken bond.

She pinched the bridge of her nose to hold the tears back, then looked at the other woman. "I've spent the last three years trying to get home."

"I'm sorry," the other woman mumbled.

Rose nodded, accepting the apology without question. If the Doctor had given her the impression that she'd left willingly, her anger made sense.

She walked down the ramp and held her hand out. "Let's try this again. I'm Rose Tyler, formerly of the Powell Estate. I'm married to the Doctor."

Martha flinched from the introduction, and suddenly her irritation with Rose's sudden appearance made more sense. But she quickly hid her hurt and shook Rose's hand, a smile on her face.

"Martha Jones. I'm a medical student, currently travelling with the Doctor."

Rose smiled at the Doctor's companion. "Speaking of the Doctor, where is he?"

Martha sighed and leaned against the console. "That's a bit complicated." She rubbed at her temple.

Rose raised an eyebrow. "What the hell do you mean, it's complicated? He's here somewhere, I know he is." She tapped the side of her head. "I can feel him."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "Interesting that would still work as a human," she muttered to herself.

Rose didn't really feel like correcting the assumption that she was human, so she let it slide. "Just tell me where my husband is."

Before Martha could answer, the TARDIS monitor turned on, playing security footage back. Rose gasped when she watched the Doctor and Martha come flying into the TARDIS with green laser beams narrowly missing them.

She scooted closer to the monitor as the tape continued to play. This was the closest she'd been to him in three years.

After the attempt to outrun the aliens failed, the Doctor held up a watch. "Take this watch, because my life depends on it. This watch, Martha. The watch is me."

The screen went dark, and Rose spun around to look at Martha. "What did he mean, that watch is him?"

Martha sighed and flopped down onto the jump seat, and that was when Rose realised she was dressed in an old-fashioned maid costume.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," she exclaimed. "I thought the dinner lady routine got old after a while, but he's got you working as his maid?"

A faint smile crossed Martha's face. "Well, he didn't exactly arrange for things himself," she said. "Here, sit down and I'll explain it all to you."


	2. Chapter 2

John paced in front of the chalkboard as he lectured his senior boys on the end of the Boer War. His dreams the night before had been particularly vivid, leaving him feeling restive and unsettled today.

Rose had been crying. They'd been standing on a beach, saying goodbye, and there had been tears running down her face. He'd ached to reach out and wipe them away, but it was like there was some kind of invisible barrier between them—he'd known he wouldn't be able to touch her, even if he tried.

He'd woken up, gasping for air, as she disappeared right in front of his eyes. Once he'd gotten his tears under control, his journal had been a welcome outlet for a torrent of memories about the last time he'd seen his wife.

John shook his head. Not memories. Dreams. And it wasn't the last time he'd seen his wife, because Rose wasn't real and he didn't actually have a wife. He tugged on his ear as he lectured; it was getting harder by the day to separate fact from fiction.

Finally, the bell rang and he dismissed the boys. Once the classroom was empty, he collapsed into a chair and ran a hand through his hair. He'd been on edge since the afternoon before, if he were honest with himself. He'd been in the middle of shooting practice when he'd felt a itch in the back of his mind, urging him to leave the school and walk… walk west, he decided after thinking about it for a moment.

That same itch was now telling him to go upstairs, and finally, after glancing at the clock and confirming the next period was his free hour, he gave into the prodding.

John took the stairs two at a time, not caring that he would chastise any of the boys he found running through the corridors the way he was. He needed to get upstairs. There was… He shook his head and kept going.

He found himself in the library a few minutes later, almost without knowing how he'd gotten there. He blinked as he looked at the shelves full of books, then turned around and stared at the door that had been locked the entire time he'd worked at the school.

"Can I help you?"

 _That voice._

John trembled, and he squeezed his eyes tight as he tried to get his suddenly racing hearts—heart—back under control. _It isn't Rose,_ he told himself sternly as he turned around. _It can't be Rose. Rose doesn't exist outside of your dreams._

He turned around slowly, then took a deep breath and opened his eyes, bracing himself for the disappointment of an unfamiliar face.

He took in her features almost instantly. Hair a bit too blonde to look natural, a wide mouth and a teasing smile, and warm brown eyes he knew he could lose himself in.

"Rose!"

Something flickered in her eyes, but then her dark eyebrows knit together and she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I'm Marion. Marion Smith."

Her lips turned up just barely, and John wondered why her own name amused her. "Marion Smith. _Mar_ -i- _on_ Smith," he said repeated, but no matter how slowly he said it, the syllables didn't quite roll off his tongue like "Rose Tyler" always did in his dreams.

"That's me," she agreed, but yet again, a hint of something showed in her eyes—awkwardness, discomfort, John couldn't say quite what… But he knew somehow that Marion Smith was not a name she would have used, if she'd had a choice.

"And… you are?"

John blinked. "Oh!" He tugged on his ear sheepishly. "John Tyler, history teacher."

Another emotion showed in Rose's—Marion's—eyes, and her smile deepened. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tyler."

There was something sensual about the way his name sounded on her tongue. John ignored the shiver that ran down his back and held out his hand. Rose took it, and they shook.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Smith," he assured her. "I take it the headmaster has finally seen fit to fill the post of librarian? Really, it's unacceptable that an institution of higher learning would go without a librarian for a full term. How are the boys to do their research if they don't have a skilled professional here to help them find sources?"

Amusement sparkled in her eyes, turning the warm brown whiskey-gold. Yet again, John felt like this woman knew him, as if his little ramble was exactly what she would have expected him to say. A treacherous warmth filled him, and he had to resist the urge to step closer to her, to pull her into his arms, to brush the hair out of her face.

Marion smirked at him. "Well, maybe Mr. Roscastle should have filled the position earlier, but given that it fit my needs so perfectly, I'm selfishly grateful that he didn't." She winked at him. "What would I have done if I'd gotten to Farringham and there hadn't been a single respectable position that could support me? I would have had to go on to the next town, or maybe even back to London all on my own."

The recoil started in the tips of John's toes and rolled all the way through his body. Just thinking about how close he'd come to never meeting Marion made him desperate to hold her as close as possible.

Marion tilted her head and stared at him for a moment. Then her expression cleared, and she shook her head quickly. "But I am here, so there's no reason to think about something that didn't happen," she added quickly.

John breathed a sigh of relief. "You are here, aren't you?"

Her smile softened. "Yes, I'm really here."

John felt something brush against his knuckles, and looking down, he realised he'd never let go of her hand. "I beg your pardon, Miss Smith," he said, feeling flustered for at least the tenth time in the last five minutes. He released her and shoved his hands into his pockets, since he apparently could not trust himself not to be overly familiar with the librarian.

A delicate blush coloured Miss Smith's cheeks, and she clasped her hands in front of her. "You have nothing to apologise for, Mr. Tyler," she assured him. "After all, I could have protested or withdrawn my hand."

Rose— _Marion_ — ducked her head and stared at her feet for a few minutes before squaring her jaw to look at him directly. "I'm afraid I've been struggling with loneliness lately, and I found the human contact too comforting to let go of."

The little catch in Rose's voice had always sparked the Doctor's protective instincts, and John found himself reacting the same way to Marion. She sounded so lonely, and he said the one thing he could think of that might make her feel less alone.

"Then we have something in common," he told her softly. His memories of Rose might only be dreams, but he still woke up every morning missing her. "I recently lost someone I cared for dearly."

Marion held out her hand, and John took it in one of his. She smiled up at him, and once again, the tenderness in her eyes made him feel like she knew every part of who he was.

"Then perhaps we could be friends, Mr. Tyler."

"Perhaps we could, Miss Smith."

oOoOo

Rose took a shaky breath after the Doctor left the library. A week ago, she would have said one of her biggest fears was that somehow, she would get back to the Doctor only to discover centuries had passed for him and he didn't remember who she was. Nothing could be worse than her husband looking at her without a shred of recognition in his eyes.

But she'd been wrong. John's eyes had positively lit up when he saw her, and a matching wave of emotion had washed over Rose from their dormant bond. Surprise, elation, relief—everything you'd expect to feel if you were suddenly reunited with your spouse after a long, painful separation.

And she'd had to pretend she didn't know him. She'd watched him fumble with her false name, the sounds clearly feeling as wrong to him as it did to her. The way he'd sounded it out the second time, trying to get the same rhythm to it that he gave Rose Tyler…

Rose rested her head in her hands and clenched her eyes shut until the hot feeling dissipated and she was confident she wouldn't cry.

Martha had told her that some of the Doctor's memories seemed to be seeping out into dreams, but she hadn't mentioned that he'd dreamed of _her_. In retrospect, it was obvious—she'd certainly had plenty of dreams about the Doctor while she'd been gone. Of course he'd dreamt about her.

But the way he looked at her… Rose straightened up and took a shuddering breath. All her stern reminders to herself about how John Tyler wasn't the Doctor had flown out the window when he'd smiled at her.

She'd been prepared for him to not know her, for him to look at her like a stranger. Instead, he'd looked at Marion Smith and seen Rose Tyler.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "How am I going to pretend I don't love him?"

oOoOo

As soon as John reached his study, he pulled his journal out of his drawer and sat down at his desk to draw. He'd seen Rose. He'd met her; she was real.

He traced the line of her jaw and the curve of her lips with his pen. A single strand of hair had been falling out of her pins, and he drew the way it brushed down into her eyes.

He had to pause for a moment, remembering how hard it had been to not reach out and push that piece hair back. Rose was right there. _His_ Rose. The woman he'd been dreaming about. He knew exactly how she would lean into his touch, how she would grab onto his tie to pull him down for a kiss…

John shook his head quickly, trying to dislodge those thoughts. This was Marion, not Rose. Marion didn't know him. She wasn't his wife.

His hand slowed and the scratching of pen against paper died down. She wasn't, but she could be.

John leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Maybe this was why he'd dreamed about being the Doctor, about being married to Rose. Maybe the dreams had been some kind of… super time sense, telling him that he was about to meet the woman who would be his perfect partner, who could hold his hand as he travelled across the stars—or just to London for a weekend.

Maybe the dreams had been a sign. Maybe Marion wasn't Rose, but maybe she could be his wife.

The next afternoon, when classes were over for the day, John brushed his sweaty palms against his tweed trousers and pushed open the library door. Marion was standing with her back to him, shelving a stack of books, and he stood and watched her for a moment. Everything about her was exactly like Rose, even the way she held her body and moved.

When she shelved the last book, she turned around for another stack and caught sight of him. "Mr. Tyler!" she said, her cheeks flushing pink. "Did you need help finding a book for one of your classes?"

He shook his head. "Classes are over for the day, and I doubt any of the boys will be visiting you this afternoon. I wondered…" He tugged on his tie. "I wondered if you would like to take a walk with me?"

Rose stared at John Tyler for a long moment. His pale cheeks had flushed, showing off his freckles. She knew what that meant—he was nervous.

Which meant this was not just about going for a walk. John Tyler wanted to court her.

When she didn't answer right away, he shoved his hands in his pockets and a little furrow appeared in his forehead. "Right, of course not. You probably… that is… I mean, you have books…"

Rose couldn't stand the look of disappointment on his face. She never wanted the Doctor to doubt that she loved him, and even though he was human without most of his memories, this was still the Doctor.

She smiled gently. "I'd love to go for a walk with you, Mr. Tyler," she told him, and she was surprised to learn that she truly meant it—not because she wanted to spend more time with the Doctor, but because she wanted to get to know more about this man he was pretending to be.

A true Doctor smile crossed his face then, not the regulated smile of a teacher trying to meet the expectations of his reserved peers. He bounced lightly on his toes.

"Brilliant!" he enthused. "I'll go get my coat and meet you at the door in… shall we say ten minutes?"

Rose nodded, and had to put her hand over her mouth when he spun around and practically skipped out of the room. No matter what else came of this afternoon, she'd made her Doctor happy.

Her smiled faded a few minutes later as she put on all the pieces of outerwear deemed necessary to go outside in this society. Long coat buttoned up tight, a scarf wrapped around her neck, hat perched jauntily on top of her head, and finally, warm gloves. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she had to admit the hat was a good addition to the outfit, even if it wasn't what she would normally wear.

The human Doctor was waiting for her just outside the door, and he beamed at her when she appeared. "Ready to walk, Miss Smith?" he asked, holding out his arm.

Rose felt a blush creep over her cheeks as she took his arm. "Where are we going, Mr. Tyler?"

He gestured vaguely with his free arm. "Oh, I thought we could take a ramble through the countryside, just take in the picturesque scenery."

As they passed through the stone gates at the end of the drive, a cold beam of sunshine broke through the December clouds. The fields that lined the road were white with frost, even though it was afternoon, and Rose tightened her scarf around her neck.

"It's beautiful here," she told John. "I've always loved the icy beauty of winter." Walking arm-in-arm with him as she was, she could feel his indrawn breath, and she wondered what he was thinking.

"Do you ever imagine…" he said slowly, "what it would be like if an entire planet were nothing but snow and ice?"

Rose's heart stopped for a moment. "Another planet?" she said, trying to keep her voice light. Martha had told her he'd been remembering, but hearing him talk about something and knowing exactly what he was referring to…

She cast her mind back to Woman Wept, nearly eight years ago for her. "What happened to turn it to ice?"

John nearly tripped over his own feet. The idea of an ice planet hadn't come from nowhere—he'd dreamed about taking Rose there, as the Doctor. He'd held her hand as they stood beneath massive, frozen waves, and she looked up at him and asked exactly the same question Marion just had, word for word.

He took a deep breath. "Oh… I'd say it was a cataclysmic disaster," he told her, choosing his words carefully. He couldn't sound like he actually believed Woman Wept was a real place, but at the same time, if Rose and Marion were the same person somehow, he wanted her to recognise him.

He gestured at the road in front of them. "Imagine we're standing on an ocean turned to ice in the middle of a fierce storm. Huge waves have frozen in the middle of their fury, and we're walking on them."

"S'beautiful," Rose breathed as they walked under icy tree branches that stood in for the waves in his memory. "How'd you come up with that idea, anyway?"

John bit his lip, but he only debated for a moment before he told her the truth. "I dreamt it."

"You dreamt of an entire planet?" Rose rested her other hand on his elbow. "What else have you dreamt about, Mr. Tyler?"

"Well…" He winced when he tugged on his ear and resolved not to do that when he was cold. "I keep imagining that I'm someone else, and that I'm hiding."

To his surprise, his companion stopped in the middle of the road and stared up at him through wide eyes. "What do you mean, hiding?"

Her eyes sparked with concern, and he thought he saw flecks of gold in their brown depths. John shook his head and took her hand, brushing his thumbs over her knuckles. "It's only a dream, Miss Smith," he reminded her.

She bit her lip, but then he watched as she visibly collected herself, pulling the fiercely protective nature that had just peeked through back under wraps. "A dream, yeah." She nodded and laughed. "And you can call me Marion, if you like," she offered. "At least when it's just the two of us. I'm sure someone at the school would say something about the impropriety of a school master calling the librarian by her first name, but I really prefer it."

John could fee a silly grin spreading across his face, but he couldn't help himself. "Then you must call me John." Marion still didn't feel like the right name for the woman smiling up at him, but he wouldn't refuse her offer.

Marion smiled at him, and her tongue teased him again. "All right then, John," she agreed. "Now, you were telling me about your dreams."

John reached for her hand. As nice as it had felt to walk arm in arm with Marion, holding her hand was as natural as breathing.

"Well, this is going to sound silly," he said.

Rose swung their hands between them. "Tell me," she encouraged.

"I dream, quite often, that I have two hearts."

Marion took his hand and pulled it closer, and a moment later, he felt her fingers press against the inside of his wrist. "Marion? What are you…"

"Shhh," she said, and he realised she was taking his pulse. A moment later, she smiled up at him and let their hands drop back to their sides. "Well, unless the second heart is like… a stealth heart or something, you only have one."

John tipped his head back and laughed. "Marion Smith you are…"

His single heart filled with warm affection for the woman in front of him. Last night, he'd tried to tell himself that Marion wasn't Rose, to not expect her to act like Rose. But when she smiled Rose's smile and used Rose's wit, it was hard to remember she was not the woman of his dreams.

Marion raised an eyebrow. "Did my clever answer impress you, John?" she teased.

The word tugged at his memory, and John grinned down at her. "Yes, exactly," he agreed. "You're so impressive."

To his surprise, Marion stopped walking and bent over with her hands on her knees. John was concerned for a moment, until he realised she was laughing too hard to stay upright.

"I didn't realise a simple compliment would elicit this reaction from you," he said dryly.

Marion straightened and wiped tears from her cheeks. "Oh, I am never going to let you forget you said that," she gasped. "Thank you, John. This has been one of the best days I've had in a long, long time."


	3. Chapter 3

For the next two weeks, Rose felt like she was in a fairy tale. John Tyler was very definitely the Doctor, right down to his dislike of pears. But he was the Doctor if he'd forgotten all about his years of tragedy and had the social customs of Edwardian culture superimposed over his personality.

The day after their walk, he came to the library during the slow part of the afternoon and fumbled through a formal request to court her. His determination to be upfront about his intentions was nothing at all like the way she and the Doctor slid into romance without either of them admitting it, but his uncertainty of her acceptance was certainly familiar.

The biggest surprise to Rose was how much she enjoyed being courted by the man who was already her husband. The Doctor had a secret romantic streak that she'd discovered once they were together, and that was definitely evident in John as well. Every morning, he brought her a rose after his first class. Every afternoon after his last class, they bundled up and walked the countryside together, regardless of the weather.

The first time John pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, Rose's heart started racing. She and the Doctor had shared far more than a simple kiss to the hand, but between the reserved culture and the three years that had passed since the last time they had made love, it felt unbelievably intimate.

It was the second week of December now, and the boys were studying hard for their end of term exams. Rose was too busy to leave the library to walk with John, but after the last boy left, she hurried down the hallway to his study.

She knocked twice, then let herself into the room as he'd instructed. John was straightening papers on his desk when she entered, and he looked up at her over the rim of his glasses.

His left eyebrow arched as he took in her appearance, and Rose reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Sorry if I'm a little disheveled," she told him. "I've been running my feet off, trying to find all the books the boys need."

John stood up and gestured at the couch situated in front of his fireplace. Tea service was set out on the coffee table, and Rose's mouth watered at the sight.

"You look lovely," he said firmly. "But definitely like you could use a cuppa."

"Oh, you have no idea," Rose mumbled as he poured two cups. She placed a scone on a plate and split it open, spreading jam onto it.

"I think two weeks courting you is enough time to learn how dependent you are on tea," he teased as he added milk to her cup and sugar to his.

Rose chuckled and took her cup. "Oh, you should see me in the morning before I get my first cuppa."

When John made a strange choking noise and coughed a few times, Rose realised how suggestive that statement sounded in 1913. Her face turned hot and she tried to hide it behind her cup.

"I just meant… I'm useless in the morning before I have a cuppa," she stammered.

His face was pink, but the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled. "I doubt you're useless, but maybe one day I'll have a chance to find out for myself."

The Doctor's cheek and teasing smile paired with John's reserve sorely tempted Rose to throw herself into his arms, and she looked quickly around the room for something to distract her. Her gaze landed on a slim leather-bound book sitting on the table.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at it.

To her surprise, John's blush spread down his neck. "That's… Well…" He tugged on his tie, then set his cup down and picked up the book. "I told you about my dreams, if you'll remember."

"A little bit," Rose agreed. "About living another life, travelling through space?"

John tapped his fingers against the cover. "Time and space," he corrected absently. "I suppose I didn't mention that I also travel in time."

Rose swallowed back a lump in her throat. "No, I think I would have remembered that," she said, her voice soft with memories.

"Well… I've written some of my dreams down, in here." He opened the book and started flipping through the pages. "I don't know if you're interested…" He found what he was looking for and marked the spot with a scrap of paper.

The uncertain expression on his face tugged at Rose's heart. "I alway want to hear your stories, John," she said sincerely. Whether he was John Tyler or the Doctor, she loved to listen to him talk about the places he'd been.

John's ears turned red, and he rubbed at the back of his neck before handing her the journal. "Only the section I marked though," he insisted before he let go of it.

"Of course," she promised, and he finally let her have it.

Rose looked at the cover and traced over the title first. "A Journal of Impossible Things," she read aloud. Then she flipped the slim volume open to the place John had indicated, about halfway through. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the earlier pages in the book and realised most of them were filled with sketches of her. _Ah, no wonder he was so adamant that I not look through the rest of his journal._

When she reached the page he'd marked, there was a sketch of a young boy in a gas mask on one side, and the words "Everybody lives!" written in bold letters on the facing page. In the Doctor's familiar scrawl, she read the story about the mysterious gold dust that was able to turn humans into monsters.

 _No mention of Captain Jack_ , she noticed wryly. She had to stifle a giggle—it would be impossible to explain to John that she was amused by her husband's selective memory.

"So the gold dust saved them all in the end?" she asked when she got to the last few words of the story.

John nodded. "Everybody lives. Those are the best days…" He loved the smile on Marion's face. "I sometimes think how magical life would be if stories like this were true."

Marion hummed in agreement. "Other planets, and miraculous gold dust that can heal all wounds? It sounds like a fairy tale." She smiled up at him. "I think I'd like to live in that world, though."

John beamed at her. Of course Marion understood his dreams—she understood him, better than anyone else in the universe. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back. It was still much too soon to go confessing his love.

He cleared his throat and gestured at the journal. "The Doctor has a good life. Flying through time and space, seeing the universe, helping people along the way… There's a bit of trouble now and then of course, but it always works out in the end."

"Oh, I think trouble is just the bits in between," Marion countered.

She handed the journal back to John before he could recover from once again hearing her repeat words straight out of his dream. He tried so hard to keep Rose and Marion separate in his mind, and moment like this made it almost impossible.

"John?"

He blinked and realised that Rose—no, Marion—had stood up. "Hmmm?"

"It's time for supper. Are you going down?"

John looked at the clock on the mantel. Somehow, it was already six o'clock. "Ah. Yes, of course." Marion waited while he pulled his suit coat on, then they walked down to the dining room together.

"So tomorrow I was thinking we could take a walk in the evening, after dinner," John said. "There's a meteor shower happening right now, and I'd love to look at the stars with you."

There was a long pause before Marion answered, and her voice sounded strained when she spoke. "I would love that, John." She smiled at him as they started down the stairs.

On the landing, a large, red invitation pinned to the bulletin board caught John's eye. His eyes widened when he realised he'd forgotten to do one very important thing. "The village Christmas dance is the day after tomorrow."

"Mm-hmm," Marion agreed.

"Would you… That is, I had hoped you would go with me. But it just occurred to me that I never asked." He rubbed at his neck and tried to avoid Marion's gaze.

To his surprise, instead of answering, she giggled. "Oh, John," she said fondly when he looked up at her. "I suppose you should have asked, but I'd already assumed we were going together."

Relief swept through him. "You had?"

She nodded, then the tip of her tongue peeked out from behind her teeth as she gave him a cheeky smile. "I even have a new dress, just for the occasion."

oOoOo

The chill December wind cut through Rose's coat as she crept across the frozen field to the TARDIS. The sun wouldn't rise for more than an hour yet, and even when it came up, it wouldn't offer much warmth.

The TARDIS wasn't much warmer, but she was warm enough for Rose's cheeks to thaw. She knew it was risky, coming to visit the ship when they were supposed to be hiding, but she couldn't leave the old girl alone.

Rose pulled off her glove and rested her bare hand on a strut. _Hello, dear._ She waited, and a moment later, she got the softest hum in reply. _Just two more weeks, then we'll be home. Oh, I've missed you._

She didn't linger long. If her presence was missed at the school, it would be hard to explain where she'd been. But two weeks living under an alias had put a strain on her, and she just needed a moment to be Rose Tyler with someone who really knew her.

The ship's hum echoed in her mind, surrounding her like a hug. Then it seemed to urge her to the door. _Go, Wolf. You'll be home soon._

After leaving, Rose patted the blue wooden door one last time, then set out through the misty grey dawn to go back to her made-up life.

oOoOo

John whistled Christmas carols as he left the library. He'd given Marion her rose, and this morning, she'd given him a book in exchange. A complete history of Cardiff hadn't struck him as a very interesting topic, but her warm brown eyes had sparkled when she handed it to him.

"You should read over the section about the Christmas disaster," she'd told him, indicating the page she'd marked.

Then she'd looked around, and after seeing they were alone, she'd risen up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. When John had put his hand to the spot and looked at her in astonishment, she blushed prettily.

"I just want you to know," she'd whispered. "I'm so glad I met you." She'd bitten her lip, then quickly added, "This you, now."

A group of boys had entered the library before he could reply. He wanted to know what she'd meant by the last, cryptic remark, but she hurried over to help the pupils, and he'd waved to her and left without a word.

The door to his study was ajar when he arrived, and he greeted Martha absently as he entered the room.

"What do you have there, sir?" she asked as she dusted the mantel. She seemed to spend a lot of time dusting that particular location, but perhaps there was something about it that collected dust.

John sat down in front of the fireplace and flipped the book open to the chapter Rose had marked for him. "A book on the history of Cardiff," he said as he skimmed the chapter on the Christmas disaster.

"Of _Cardiff_?" Martha turned quickly, her duster waving in the air as she moved.

John looked at up at her, and he had to bite back a smile at the disdain on her face. "Yes, Cardiff," he replied calmly. "Marion wanted me to read about the Christmas explosion in 1869."

"Yeah, of course she did." Martha put her hands on her hips and glanced around the room. "Well, I think I'm done, Mr. Tyler. Will you be taking tea alone today, or shall I bring up a tray for two like I did yesterday?"

"Just me today, Martha. Thank you." John flipped the book back open and settled in to read.

oOoOo

"Oh, it is freezing out here!" Martha exclaimed as she carried hers and Jenny's drinks back outside. "Why can't we have a drink inside the pub?" She'd been looking forward to this night out, but she'd forgotten that they wouldn't be sitting inside, warmed by the pub's cheery fire.

Jenny laughed and shook her head. "Now, don't be ridiculous," she admonished.

"I'm not being ridiculous," Martha said hotly. Normally she'd try to stay quiet, but the daily reminders of how much the Doctor loved Rose Tyler were getting under her skin. She just couldn't stand to be condescended to, not even by her friend. "We don't deserve to be treated like this, Jenny. We're people, just like those men."

Jenny narrowed her eyes, and Martha had the uncomfortable sensation that she was being studied. A gust of wind swept through the garden and an owl hooted in the background while Martha waited for Jenny to say something.

Finally, Jenny said, "I think I know what's really upsetting you, and it isn't sitting out in the cold."

Martha shifted on the rough wooden bench and pulled her coat tighter around herself. "Because that's not enough?"

Jenny shook her head. "You've been upset for at least a week now… but I think it's more like two weeks, ever since Miss Smith arrived."

Martha could feel her face grow hot, and she took a drink of her beer to hide her red cheeks.

"See, I knew it." Jenny leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, a smirk on her face. "You tried to say you only cared about Mr. Tyler because he was kind to you, but I knew there was more to it than that."

"No, I just…" Martha sighed and looked up at the sky. "I just want to go home," she whispered.

It was the first time she'd admitted it to herself. Travelling with the Doctor was never supposed to be a permanent arrangement, not for her. She had a life back in her own time, a life where she didn't constantly feel like second best.

 _Plus, the longer I'm away the harder it will be to pass my exams,_ she reminded herself.

A green light pulsed in the sky, and Martha straightened up, all thoughts of the Doctor and Rose and what would happen when they left 1913 forgotten.

"Did you see that?"

Jenny looked up at the sky, then back at Martha. "See what?"

The light had faded, but Martha knew what she'd seen. It had looked just like all those supposedly faked pictures of people spotting alien landings.

She got to her feet, still staring at the sky. "Did you see it, though? Right up there, just for a second."

"Martha, there's nothing there."

Familiar voices drifted towards them, coming down the road in the direction of the school. Martha narrowed her eyes and peered into the darkness, and she wasn't surprised when Mr. Tyler and Rose came around a bend in the road.

"It was a light, John, a bright green light," Rose insisted. She spotted Martha and pointed at the sky. "Did you see it, Martha?"

Martha nodded. Mr. Tyler sighed in amused exasperation, but the four of them all looked up at the sky, waiting for another sign that Martha and Rose weren't just seeing something.

Their patience was rewarded a moment later when a streak of light crossed the horizon. Jenny gasped. "Oh, that's beautiful."

Rose turned to Mr. Tyler, tugging gently on his arm. "There, you see," she said, and Martha suspected she was the only one who could hear the urgency under her teasing voice. "I wasn't imagining things, John."

Mr. Tyler smiled at her. "I never said you were, Marion. Just that it couldn't possibly be aliens like the Doctor encounters." He winked at her, then looked at all three women. "It was a meteor," he explained. "Just rocks falling to the ground, that's all."

Martha and Rose exchanged a glance, then Rose looked back at the sky. "It looked like it came down in the woods," she said. "That's the direction it was going, at least."

Mr. Tyler shook his head. "No, no, no. No, they always look close, when actually they're miles off. Nothing left but a cinder."

Rose pursed her lips. She couldn't explain it, but she _knew_ that hadn't been just a meteor. And while it could be a coincidence that aliens had just landed close to where the Doctor was hiding, she wouldn't bet on it.

Years of Torchwood training came to the fore, and the only thing that kept her from haring across the fields to check it out was the certainty that John would follow her if she did. If the Family had found them, the last thing she wanted to do was lead him straight to them.

She shivered at the thought. John must have felt it, because a moment later, he dropped her hand and draped his own scarf around her neck. "You're shivering, darling," he murmured, forgetting their audience for a moment. "I should get you back to the school."

He stepped back and turned slightly to address Martha and Jenny. "Would either of you ladies like an escort back?"

Martha shook her head. "No, we're fine, thanks."

Rose raised her eyebrows, and Martha gave a very small nod. The knot of tension between her shoulder blades eased. If she couldn't be the one to explore the impact site, having Martha go was the next best option.

John tipped his hat to Martha and Jenny. "Then we shall bid you goodnight."

The walk back to the school was mostly silent. It had gotten too cold to talk comfortably, but beyond that, Rose's mind was completely focused on the possibility that they'd been discovered. She was drawing up escape plans in her mind, going over possible contingencies and evaluating the danger of each to civilian life.

They were almost to the gates when John pulled her to a stop. "I said I wanted to show you the stars," he said softly when Rose looked up at him. "This isn't the vantage point I had in mind, but it will do."

He leaned against the stone wall and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his cheek against her temple. Rose closed her eyes and took a deep breath. John didn't smell exactly like the Doctor—there was a faint scent of paper and ink clinging to him after days spent writing and grading papers—but under everything else, there was still something familiar about the way he smelled.

"Look, Marion." John raised an arm and pointed across the open field. Hundreds of stars glittered on the inky expanse. "Can you imagine being out there, walking across alien worlds?"

A meteor shot across the sky before Rose could answer. She rested her hands on top of John's and squeezed. "Make a wish," she whispered.

He sighed, and a moment later, she felt his lips brush against her temple. The bond flared in response to the contact, and they both sucked in a breath.

"I already have what I wished for," John said, his voice husky. "Marion…"

She turned and put her hands on his chest, over where his hearts would be if he weren't human. "Yes, John."

"Is it too early… Two weeks isn't long enough…"

Rose's breath caught in her throat when she realised what he was trying to say. "Maybe not for some people, but I was looking for you for so long…"

A shaft of moonlight illuminated John's face, and she could see the wonder in his eyes. "I dreamt about you," he admitted. "You're there, in the Doctor's life. No, you _are_ the Doctor's life. And then… you were gone, and he was lost."

Rose pressed her lips together to hold back a sob. She didn't know exactly which memories of their life together had seeped through into John's dreams, but she knew the pain of that separation all too well.

He lifted his hand and a moment later, his cool glove touched her cheek as he brushed a strand of hair back over her ear. "In two weeks, you've become just as important to me as Rose is to the Doctor. You… you understand me, Marion. You know the things about me that I've never told anyone. And I…"

He closed his eyes and Rose held her breath, waiting. When he opened them, the tenderness in his gaze was so familiar that she ached. And she'd seen it recently, she realised. She'd seen it last week, when he'd helped her over a log blocking the road. Two days ago, when he'd handed her a deep red rose. And tonight, when he'd tied an extra scarf around her neck.

"And you?" she prompted. Her hands crept up over his shoulders to link loosely behind his neck.

He reached up and cupped her face between his hands. "And I love you."

The words obviously came more easily to John than they had the Doctor, but everything else about the moment was familiar. They'd been alone then, too, staring up at the stars being pulled into a black hole. And in the quietness, he'd whispered those words so softly that Rose almost hadn't believed her ears.

She whispered his name and repeated the words, just like she had on Krop Tor. And just like that night, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I am back! I make no promises about how frequent updates will be, but it won't be another 6 months before I post chapter 5.

After saying goodnight to John in the entryway, Rose practically floated up the stairs to her room. It had been so long since she'd had the simple pleasure of kissing her husband.

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lips. He'd been hesitant at first, almost shy. But when she'd sighed his name against his lips and combed her fingers through his hair, he'd shivered and let his suppressed memories of kissing her guide him. The sudden passion in his embrace had made Rose weak at the knees, and he'd gathered her close when she'd swayed against him.

In the end, the cold air seeping through their clothes had kept them from straying farther than a 1913 gentleman would go without being married. And while Rose chafed at the customs on one hand, a larger part of her wanted the Doctor to truly remember their entire past when they made love again.

Rose sighed and turned down the hallway her room was on, and an instant later, all of her soft, romantic thoughts were forgotten. Her door was ajar, letting light spill out into the hall.

Glancing around, she grabbed a figurine off of a curio cabinet. It wouldn't do much to protect her if an enemy was in her room, but it was better than being unarmed.

She crept down the hallway, then took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The air rushed out of her lungs immediately, and she tossed the figurine onto the bed.

"You scared me, Martha," she said to the woman sitting in the rickety wooden chair.

Martha raised an eyebrow. "I've been waiting for you for twenty minutes. I thought you'd be here when I got back, since Mr. Tyler was so concerned about getting you back where it was warm."

Rose pushed the door shut, then started taking off her warm winter clothes. "We stopped for a bit and watched the meteor shower," she said vaguely, though she knew her pink cheeks probably gave away the truth.

Martha snorted. "I'm pretty sure you were doing more than star-gazing," she said drily.

Rose considered her answer as she hung up her coat and scarf. On one hand, it wasn't any of Martha's business. She and John were both consenting adults—married consenting adults, even. But on the other hand, she needed to work with Martha to keep the Doctor safe for the next two weeks. Maybe they'd better talk about this now.

"We might have done," she said, keeping her voice even. She wished she had a way to make tea. It would warm her up and make this conversation more pleasant. "Why does that bother you so much, Martha?"

Martha shook her head. "Because John Tyler will only be here for another two weeks. Don't you think the Doctor will be upset if he gets back and you've fallen in love with another man?"

Rose's eyes widened. All of Martha's vaguely antagonistic comments over the last few weeks suddenly made sense. If she didn't think John _was_ the Doctor…

She took the other chair and studied Martha for a moment, wondering how best to help her understand. He was always the Doctor, no matter what.

The memory of her own confusion after the Doctor's regeneration came to her, and she nodded once. "When I met the Doctor, he didn't look anything like what he looks like now."

Martha rolled her eyes. "I know. He wore pinstripes instead of tweed and a long brown overcoat."

Rose shook her head. "Try jumpers and a leather coat." She pictured her first Doctor's face, with his big ears and bright blue eyes. "There's this thing Time Lords can do when they're about to die. It's called regeneration. It saves their lives, but they have to change every cell of their bodies. They get a whole new face."

Martha frowned. "I think the Doctor started to tell me about that a few months back," she said. "We were… well, long story, but there was a chance he could die. And he told me there was a thing… but he never got to finish the sentence."

Rose's fingers clenched into the fabric of her dress at the thought that the Doctor had come so close to regenerating while she was gone. But she forced herself to relax and continue with the story.

"I was… so in love with him. And then he changed right in front of me. I didn't understand at first, but it only took me a day to realise that he is the same man, always."

She stared at Martha and thought she saw a glimmer of understanding in the other woman's eyes. "I haven't fallen in love with another man. John Tyler _is_ the Doctor. And he is always my Doctor, whether he has two heads or no head, or…" She let out a loud breath and ran a hand through her hair. "If he regenerated as a woman. They would still be my Doctor, and I would still love them."

The room was silent for several minutes, Martha thinking and Rose waiting. Finally, Martha shrugged and looked up at Rose. "All right. I still don't get it, but he's an alien, and you're his wife. If you say he's still the Doctor…" She shrugged.

Rose smiled, then leaned forward across the table. "Now, I'm guessing you're actually here to tell me what you found."

Martha sighed and shook her head. "Jenny and I went to Cooper's field, where it looked like the shooting star had landed. There was nothing there—just a big open space."

"But there should have been something," Rose argued. "Even if it was just what was left of a meteor."

"I know. But there was nothing there," Martha repeated.

A static charge ran down Rose's back, making the hairs on her arms stand up. She'd experienced this more than once at Torchwood. Mickey had called it her Spidey-sense, and each time they listened to her inklings of danger, it had saved lives.

"A big, open field…" Rose stood up and started pacing. "An open field would be the perfect place to land a spaceship," she muttered.

"But there was nothing—unless it was cloaked," Martha said, realising it before Rose could tell her.

"Exactly." Rose stood in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth of the dying flames. "Every instinct I have is screaming at me to get him into the TARDIS and have him open the watch, but I know the Doctor chose to hide for a reason. Until I know for certain that they've found us…"

"I can go back to the TARDIS tomorrow and watch the video again," Martha offered. "I know he talks about what to do if the Family finds us."

Rose nodded. "And I'll get the watch from John's study. I'd feel better if I had it with me at all times." She smiled wryly. "Since I got here over a month after you and John started working at the school, the Family shouldn't suspect me of being associated with him at all."

Martha glanced at the clock on the wall. "I should go to bed. Four o'clock comes awfully early." She got up and walked to the door, then paused and looked back at Rose. "Rose? We will keep the Doctor safe. I promise."

Rose sank onto the bed after Martha left and rubbed her hands over her face. She wanted to believe Martha's reassurances, but it was hard when she could literally feel the danger lurking around the corner.

Bad Wolf. The ability to feel timelines moving around her had only started after the Game Station. She and the Doctor had barely begun exploring all the changes the Vortex had caused in her before Canary Wharf.

She bit her lip. She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd told Martha she wanted to run to John and make him open the watch right this minute.

But the Doctor had hidden himself away for a reason, and after watching the video on a loop, she thought she understood.

If the Family were allowed to possess the body of a Time Lord, they would have a nearly immortal life. And with that life, they would roam across the galaxy, causing destruction wherever they went.

As a human, John was vulnerable. He could be killed. But the damage that could be done to the universe with the power of a Time Lord outweighed the danger to his life.

She had to choose to save the world, even if it meant losing him.

oOoOo

John watched the clock on the wall as it ticked the seconds off. It had only been eleven hours, twelve minutes, and two… three… four seconds since he'd said good night to Marion, but every minute without her in his arms seemed impossibly long.

Thankfully, he was giving the final exam in his first class of the day. Trying to lecture when his mind was wholly focused on waiting for the bell to ring would have been impossible.

He bit back a sigh and shoved his hands through his hair. _Not that watching the clock is much better._

Finally, the second hand landed on the twelve for the last time, and the bell rang through the hallways. John leapt to his feet, ignoring the titters of laughter that drew from the boys.

"Everyone, pass your exams to the front of the row, please." John waited impatiently for the exams to reach the front of the room, where he hurriedly gathered them. "And now you are dismissed."

The boys gathered their belongings and filed out of the class, a second reminder unnecessary. The Christmas holidays would start tomorrow, and they were all eager to leave the school behind for a month.

As soon as the classroom was empty, John returned to his room, walking as quickly as he could with any sense of decorum. He stuffed the tests into a drawer of his desk, then collected the day's rose from the vase on his desk.

The library was rather inconveniently located on the opposite side of the building from his room. At least with class in session, the hallways were empty enough that John felt free to move at a brisk jog, instead of a more sedate, professorial pace.

He was halfway there, mind filled with the imagined smile Marion would greet him with, when a sly voice stopped him.

"Where are you racing off to in such a hurry, Mr. Tyler?"

John slowed and looked over his shoulder at the tall senior boy loitering in the hallway. "Why aren't you in class, Baines?" he asked, rather than answer the question.

Baines pushed off the wall and sauntered over to him, an insolent sneer on his face. "I forgot my book in my room." He raised the thick volume he carried. "Mr. Carothers gave me leave to go back for it."

John would have recognised the lie even if Baines hadn't raised his eyebrow in an obvious challenge for him to call him on it. But the tug to be with Marion again overruled his normally strict attitude about rule-following.

"Well, you have it now. Best get to class before I have to tell Mr. Carothers that you dawdled."

Instead of answering, Baines stepped closer to John and sniffed. John leaned away from him and stared the lad in the eyes. "Anything the matter, Baines?"

Brown eyes darkened, and a furrow appeared in between his eyebrows. "I thought…" He shook his head. "No, sir. Nothing, sir."

"Then do as I said and get to class," John said, his impatience making his voice sharp. Baines sketched a salute, then wheeled around and marched off.

"Impudent boy," John muttered as he watched him go.

And then he felt the soft glow of Marion's presence pull him forward, and all thoughts of Baines were forgotten.

oOoOo

Rose watched the clock above the library door as the second class period ticked away. John was usually here by now, and even though she could tell through their muted bond that he was fine, anxiety crept over her with each passing minute.

"Excuse me, Miss Smith?"

Rose started when Timothy Latimer called her name in a louder voice than she'd ever heard him use. "Library voices, Mr. Latimer," she admonished.

His ears turned red, but he didn't look away. "I apologise, Miss, but I tried to call your name three times before you heard me."

It was Rose's turn to blush. "Then the apology is mine, Timothy. What did you need?"

"I wanted to know if I could take a book home with me over the holiday. I haven't finished reading about the Boxer Rebellion."

"Of course," Rose said, only feeling a twinge of guilt for the next librarian. She, Martha, and the Doctor would all be long gone before the next term began—as long as she could keep the Doctor's watch safe.

Timothy narrowed his eyes, but before Rose could ask if something was wrong, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. The brown hair was more unruly than John usually kept it, and years of watching the Doctor rake his hand through his hair told Rose exactly how he had gotten so disheveled.

The wide, beaming smile he gave her as he strode across the room was still the same, and Rose returned it automatically. _My Doctor._ He was here. He was still fine. She didn't need to worry… and she wouldn't, as soon as she had the watch in her hands.

Rose hardly noticed Timothy subtly edging away from her. John held out her rose of the day, and she brought it to her nose to sniff at the delicate pink petals.

"It's beautiful, John." She half-turned and added it to the full vase on her desk.

John caught her hand and brought it to his lips. "Not as beautiful as you, Marion."

His low, intimate voice affected Rose exactly as she knew he had hoped. She'd heard that voice in her dreams, whispering sweet nothings and seductive promises in her ear.

She twisted her wrist so she could lace her fingers through his, then stepped closer to him and stretched up to whisper in his ear.

"Flatterer."

He shook his head, and she could feel his breath against her cheek. "Never."

"Good-bye, Mr. Tyler, Miss Smith." Timothy smiled wryly at them when they jumped apart and dropped each other's hands. "Mr. Tyler, I still need to return the book I borrowed from you on Mafeking. Will you be in your study this afternoon?"

John tugged on his red ear. "Yes, of course Mr. Latimer. Ah, thank you for… being so conscientious."

Rose felt her cheeks grow hot when Timothy barely managed to hide his smile as he hurried out of the library. John turned to her after he was gone, an embarrassed smile on his face.

"I suppose we ought to be thankful Latimer was the only student here," he said ruefully.

"And I suppose we shouldn't count on being that lucky next time," Rose added, completing his thought.

They shared a smile, then John brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. "I think I ought to get back to my study."

"So soon?" Rose protested. He usually stayed until almost the end of the class period, even though it meant he stayed up late into the night grading papers and writing his lectures.

John shook his head. "If I stay much longer, I won't be able to stop myself from pulling you into a secluded corner of the library so I can kiss you again."

He chuckled when Rose's mouth dropped open. "I'll see you this evening at 7:00, so we can go to the dance."

Rose tilted her head and pursed her lips. "There's one question I haven't asked, John. Do you actually know how to dance?"

A wicked gleam lit his eyes, then John leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Well, I've got the moves, but I wouldn't want to boast."

Then he straightened up and winked at her, before spinning around and walking out of the room—leaving a very flustered Rose Tyler in his wake.

oOoOo

Tim stood outside Mr. Tyler's study and went over his plan once more. Miss Smith's anxious thoughts that morning had been as clear to him as if she'd been speaking. Both she and Mr. Tyler—or the Doctor, as she called him—had been kind to him, and he wanted to help if he could. Hopefully, once he was in Mr. Tyler's room, he would know what to do.

He straightened his shoulders, then knocked firmly on the door. It opened a moment later, and Mr. Tyler blinked down at him.

"Yes, Timothy?"

Tim held up the book. "I told you I would bring this back, sir," he reminded, though he wouldn't be surprised if his teacher hadn't heard what he'd said.

Mr. Tyler frowned and took the book from him. He turned it over in his hands, then nodded when he saw the title. "Ah, yes. The Definitive Account of Mafeking by Aitchison Price." He sounded just as surprised that he owned the volume as he had a month ago when Tim had borrowed it from him.

"Yes, sir. Thank you for suggesting I read it." He hesitated. "And… And for your other suggestion," he added. Letting his classmates and teachers truly see what he was capable of hadn't been easy, but in the end, it had been easier than hiding.

"Part of my job as a professor," Mr. Tyler said, and then stepped back to let Tim into the room.

The whispers started as soon as Tim passed through the doorway. He'd always been able to hear things other people couldn't, known things he shouldn't have known. It had gotten him in trouble more than once, but this time, it felt like someone else needed his help.

Tim belatedly realised he hadn't replied to Mr. Tyler, and he pulled his attention away from the indiscernible voice. "Still, thank you. No other teacher took the time to notice."

Mr. Tyler waved the book at him. "I told you you should be at the top of your class, didn't I?" He turned and walked to the back of his room, before disappearing into the tiny closet he used as a library.

As soon as he was gone, Tim walked across the room to the fireplace. The voice was coming from this direction. "Yes, sir," he said as he scanned the mantel, this time remembering to answer Mr. Tyler's question.

The whispers were louder here, and when Tim pinpointed the source, his eyes widened. A watch, just like Miss Smith had been thinking about that morning.

"Aren't you glad you stopped hiding who you are?" Mr. Tyler called from the closet.

At the same time, the voice in the watch became clear enough to understand. _Take me. Hide me. Keep Rose safe._

Tim had only a moment to make up his mind. Once Mr. Tyler was back, his chance would be gone. He thought of the worry in Miss Smith's eyes that morning, then snatched the watch up and dropped it into his pocket.

"Tim?"

He turned on his heel, his heart pounding wildly. "Yes sir?"

"I asked you a question." Mr. Tyler raised his left eyebrow. "Aren't you glad you stopped hiding who you are?"

Tim let out a slow breath and nodded once. "I am, sir," he said truthfully.

Of course, now he was hiding something much more intriguing.

Mr. Tyler smiled and put his hand on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Timothy Latimer. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

Tim stared up at his teacher, barely aware of what he'd said. Instead, his mind was filled with visions of Mr. Tyler and Miss Smith, running together hand in hand, always laughing.

"Thank you, sir," he managed to promise, though his voice croaked a little.

Mr. Tyler pushed the door open, and Tim shuffled towards the hallway, his mind still buzzing with the sensation of the voice seeping out of the watch.

"Right then," Mr. Tyler said. "If I don't see you again before you leave, I hope you have a Happy Christmas, and I look forward to having you in class again next term."

"Happy Christmas, sir," Tim replied. Then he fled the room, the pilfered watch heavy in his pocket.

Instead of going to his room, he made for a tiny cupboard underneath the servants staircase that he'd discovered made an excellent hiding place. Once the door was shut behind him, he pulled the watch out of his pocket and turned it over, letting the light from the single bare bulb catch the polished silver from different angles.

His thumb rested against the catch, and he held his breath before pushing it. Golden light streamed into his little hidey-hole, along with more visions of Mr. Tyler and Miss Smith.

 _You are not alone. Keep me hidden._

Tim nearly dropped the watch when he heard the voice echoed in his mind, but he managed to catch it and snap it shut. That was Mr. Tyler's voice.

He stared at the watch. Miss Smith was looking for this. She was worried about it.

 _I should take this to her._

As soon as he thought it, the voice in the watch disagreed. _Danger is nearby. Keep Rose safe._

The desperate plea came through clearly, and once Tim grasped that Rose meant Miss Smith, he understood. He slid the watch back into his pocket, then peeked out of the cupboard and quickly walked down the hall. He would have to trust the Doctor to tell him when it was safe to take the watch to Rose.

oOoOo

John muttered curses under his breath as he undid the bowtie for the fifth time. The piece of silk was getting wrinkled, and he knew if he didn't get it right this time, he would have to press it before he started again.

Luckily, a knock on his door distracted him and he stepped away from the mirror to open it. His mouth fell open when he saw Marion, a vision in red velvet. Her lip was caught between her teeth, and he wondered what on Earth she felt insecure about.

He held out his hand and pulled her into the room when she took it, leading her over to stand in front of the fireplace. "Marion, you are…" His gaze swept over her figure. "You are absolutely stunning, darling."

Her cheeks turned pink. "Thank you, John. You're looking dapper yourself—I love the charcoal grey pinstripes."

John hummed and slid his hands into his jacket pockets. "I wanted something nicer than what I normally wear."

Marion nodded, and now she seemed to be biting back a smile. "However, it looks like you aren't quite ready to go," she added, gesturing to the untied bowtie. "Do you need a hand?"

John sighed. "Would you? I've tried five times and can't get the thing to work properly."

Marion giggled and stepped closer to him, letting him catch a hint of the subtle perfume she wore. "Well lucky for you, I happen to be an expert."

She reached for the silk, and a moment later, John's heart stuttered when he felt her soft fingers brush against his jaw as she worked. He tried to train his gaze over the top of her head, but he couldn't take his eyes off the bit of tongue that poked out of her mouth as she concentrated on her work.

It took her less than two minutes to get it tied, and then she brushed her hands down the lapels of his jacket, straightening it along the way. "There!" She beamed up at him. "Ready to go."

John's hands had found their way to Marion's waist, and when she stepped back, he followed her.

She blinked, then her lips curved in an inviting smile. "We can't linger too much longer," she warned him as he leaned down.

He shook his head, brushing his nose against hers. "No one will notice if we're a few minutes late."

She laughed, and he felt the puff of air against his lips just before he kissed her. Marion slid her hands back over his chest to link them behind his neck, pulling him closer.

There was no hesitation or uncertainty in John's kisses tonight. Rose tilted her head back as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Desire burned bright over their bond, and when John groaned against her throat, she knew he could feel it too.

She gasped when he ran his hands down her back, then lower still until they rested on her arse. She felt his lips curve up in a smile, and then he pulled her closer, instinctively seeking the friction they both craved.

Rose speared her fingers through his hair and brought his lips back to hers for a searing kiss. John touched her and kissed her in all the ways the Doctor had learned would undo her, and she was quickly forgetting the reasons why she shouldn't lead him to the nearby bed.

Her fingers were hovering over his tie when the door burst open, banging off the wall. Rose gasped and whirled around as Martha skidded into the room.

"Martha—"

Rose put her hand on John's arm before he could berate his friend. The fear in the other woman's dark eyes made her stomach sink, and she was afraid she knew what Martha had to say.

"What is it, Martha?"

She nodded and took a deep breath. "They've found us. I've seen them."

Rose spun around to grab the watch off the mantel while Martha kept talking.

"They look like people, like us, like normal. I'm sorry, but he's got to open the watch. Where is it?"

Rose blinked, hoping that she just wasn't seeing the watch and it would appear when she opened her eyes again. It didn't.

"Not here," she said, forcing the words past her numb lips.

"What do you mean, it's not here?" Martha ran over and looked at the mantel herself. "Oh, my God. Where's it gone? Where's the watch?"

John stared at the two women standing with their backs to him. There was something deeply unsettling about the way their attention was fixated on the mantel and the supposedly missing watch.

"What are you talking about?" he asked testily.

They shared a long look, then turned around to face him. "You had a watch," Martha said, pronouncing the words precisely. "A fob watch. Right there," she added, pointing at the empty mantel.

"Did I?" John scratched at his cheek. "I don't remember."

Martha opened her mouth, but Marion put a hand on her arm, and after a moment, Martha pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded stiffly.

John watched warily as Marion walked over to him and took his hands in hers. Nothing this evening had gone the way he'd planned. They were supposed to be at the dance right now, twirling around the floor together and laughing with the giddiness of new love.

There was no giddiness in Marion's eyes as she looked up at him, and John braced himself for whatever she was about to say.

"John, do you trust me?"

He blinked, then shook his head. "What?" That was so far from what he'd expected her to say; surely he'd heard wrong.

"Do you trust me?" she repeated, squeezing his hands to emphasise the words.

John smiled and relaxed a little. "Always. With everything I am."

Marion's eyes watered, and he let go of one of her hands to reach up and brush a few tears off her eyelashes. "That was an easy question," he told her sincerely.

She took a deep breath, then nodded slowly. "The next part won't be as easy, John," she warned him. "I'm going to say things you won't understand, but you need to trust me and do exactly as I say. Your life—all of our lives—depend on it."

John felt like he was floundering in waters deeper than he could handle safely, but Marion's steady gaze held his panic at bay. "What do we need to do?" he asked.

She smiled, then let go of his hands and paced in front of the fireplace. "We need to get back to the TARDIS," she said decisively. "She can keep us safe, and we can use her scanner to search for the watch."

"What if the Family already has the watch?" Martha asked.

None of the words they were using made any sense, but John could tell they meant something important. He watched Marion, waiting for her answer.

She shook her head. "Then it doesn't matter where we go. They will take this planet, and every other planet. The whole universe will end in destruction."

A heavy silence settled over the room, then Martha cleared her throat. "Well. Let's hope they don't, then."


	5. Chapter 5

Rose soon discovered that running down a country lane at night was not, perhaps, the smartest idea she'd ever had. She and Martha knew the path through the woods to the TARDIS well enough to make the trip in the dark, but John did not. He was trying to run, but his instinctive caution hampered their speed.

They had to slow down even more when they turned off onto the narrow path that led to the TARDIS. Trees kept sunlight from reaching the ground here, and the frost and recent precipitation made it slick.

"Where are we going?" John asked, his breath turning to tiny crystals of ice.

"Somewhere safe," Martha replied.

The hair on the back of Rose's neck stood up, her awareness of danger pressing down on her again. "And we need to hurry. They're following us."

Heavy silence settled over them, and they sped up to a jog. Rose kept her ears strained, both for the sound of the TARDIS ahead and for any indication that their pursuers were closing in.

A hand slipped into hers, and Rose felt some of the tension in her body loosen at the familiar feeling. John might not remember their life, but they were still the Doctor and Rose Tyler, running for their lives.

She gave his hand a quick squeeze, and he grinned at her. "Some of that trouble I promised you, Marion."

Before she could reply, he stumbled and fell, wrenching her shoulder a little when he pulled on her arm. "John!" Rose crouched down beside him. "What happened?"

He groaned and reached for his ankle. "I stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle."

She and Martha helped him to his feet, and Rose watched anxiously as he tentatively put his weight on the foot he'd injured. The sharp indrawn breath told her what she needed to know, and without saying a word, she draped his arm over her shoulder.

"Let's go," she muttered once Martha was supporting him from the other side. They started down the path again, at half the speed they'd been moving before.

Rose's danger sense sharpened, and her heart sped up. They were still a quarter of a mile from the shed. If they didn't get to the TARDIS before the Family found them…

She picked up her pace, ignoring John's pained gasps as she practically dragged him down the path. If the Family found them, going slowly and taking care of his ankle wouldn't keep him safe.

Finally, the shed came into view. "Come on," she hissed. "We're almost there."

The oily voice of Jeremy Baines stopped them. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Rose measured the distance to the shed, but Martha grabbed her hand before she could decide to make a run for it. "They'd shoot us before we could make it."

"Oh, the maid is clever!"

Rose took a deep breath, then turned to face the Family. Her heart sank when she recognised the maid, Jenny, in addition to Baines. Mr. Clark from the village stood on Baines' other side, and the fourth… She had to tamp down her anger when she realised the Family had possessed a child.

She casually shifted one step to the right, so she was in front of John. "What do you need, Baines?"

A sly smirk twisted his lips. "Oh, Miss Smith. I think you know exactly what we need." He lifted his weapon and pointed it at John. "We need the Doctor."

John huffed angrily. "What are you talking about, Baines?"

Uncertainty flickered in Baines' eyes, and Rose was grateful she hadn't told John the truth. His confusion was genuine and convincing.

Rose frowned and looked from one member of the Family to another. "The Doctor?" she repeated. "This is Mr. Tyler, not a doctor."

"She is lying, Son of Mine," Jenny said. "If he isn't the Doctor, why did they flee?"

Rose ground her teeth together when she saw every member of the Family of Blood straighten at the reminder. Four hands tightened around four weapons, all of them pointed at John.

 _Just another fifty yards and we would have been safe._ Behind her, the TARDIS seemed to hum in agreement… and maybe something more. _Safe… I want my Doctor safe._

Rose closed her eyes and opened her mind, and the TARDIS' song thrummed through her. _I am the Bad Wolf._

Warning pulsed over their connection, and she snapped her eyes open. Baines had taken a step forward, trying to grab John before she could stop him. She held up her hand, and he froze in place.

"You will not touch him," she ordered.

The Family all tilted their heads back and sniffed deeply. "You took on female form," Baines crooned, laughter dancing in his eyes. "Time Lord…"

Rose shook her head. "I am not a Time Lord. I am the Bad Wolf."

John stumbled back a step and stared at Marion. He'd been stunned when gold light had flowed out of the shed and swirled around her, but those words… he'd heard them before in his dreams.

Mr. Clark laughed. "Whoever you are, you are drenched in time energy. Son of Mine can live of your lifespan as well as he could the Doctor's."

Baines' eyes glittered viciously. "Oh yes," he whispered. "I will take your essence, and with that power I will bring ruin and destruction on the entire universe."

John barely understood a word they were saying, but he comprehended enough to know that Marion was in danger. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and he tried to step forward to protect her.

A hand on his arm stopped him, and he whirled around to glare at Martha. But she shook her head and pointed at Marion.

"Let her take care of this, John," she ordered. "Just watch." John growled and shook her hand off his arm, but he stayed where he was and watched.

The young girl tilted her head. "This is boring," she declared suddenly. Before John realised what she was doing, she squeezed the trigger on her gun, and a narrow beam of green light cut through the air in their direction.

John jerked away from Martha and limped forward to shield Marion. He braced for the pain, but the light stopped when it was still four feet away from him. A sheen of gold appeared in front of him for a moment before it disappeared.

Mr. Clark fired his weapon, but it hit the same gold barrier. "What is this?" he growled.

John shifted his weight to his good foot. He could see Marion's eyes now, lit with gold fire.

She stared at Baines, her arms loose at her sides and her posture ready to move. "What happened to the humans you possessed?" she asked, ignoring Mr. Clark's question. "Are they gone?"

John shuddered when the maid's expression twisted into a smirk. "They are consumed."

Marion nodded. "So they're dead."

The calm, matter-of-fact way she said it affected John more than the fact itself. She had known… she'd expected it, even.

Baines scowled and rolled his eyes. "Dead, gone, consumed… They are no more, just as you will be once we have you."

Marion narrowed her eyes and tapped her finger against her chin. John shivered at the calculations he could see her making—where was the woman he loved in this cold warrior?

But when she nodded, he glimpsed the sorrow in her eyes, and she was Marion again. The compassion he'd fallen in love with was there, under the flinty determination to see justice carried out.

"You stole time from them, and so time shall be taken from you."

Finality rang in her voice, and their four adversaries turned to run. But the same gold barrier that had stopped their weapons now surrounded them, and Baines and the rest turned back around. Their earlier derision had been replaced with fear.

"You could let us go," the maid pleaded.

Marion shook her head. "He hid to give you the chance to live out your lives. Instead, you hunted for him and killed four innocent humans. There are no second chances."

She waved her hand, and gold light streamed from her fingertips to swirl around the four people. "The remaining minutes and hours of your existence are gone."

John frowned, uncertain of what she could possibly mean. The four seemed to understand, however, for they all opened their mouths to scream.

Not a sound escaped them before they fell to the ground. John didn't need to look at them to know they were quite dead.

"What happened to them?" he asked.

She turned around, and he was mesmerised by the gold light in her eyes. Again, the sight sparked a sense of recognition, but he couldn't pinpoint why.

Marion did not shy away from his gaze, but met it directly. "The Family of Blood killed Jenny, Baines, Mr. Clark, and that little girl. They killed them, then used their bodies to hunt for the Doctor. But their natural lives only last three months—that's why they wanted the lifespan of a Time Lord." She gestured at the bodies behind her. "I put them in a time bubble and sped up time inside it, so their three months would pass in the blink of an eye for us."

" _You stole time from them, so time shall be taken from you."_

John nodded slowly. He still didn't understand the power she could wield, but he could understand the balance of her punishment.

When John accepted her explanation, Rose's shoulders relaxed. Bad Wolf had been certain of the justice of her actions, but Rose Tyler had still worried that John—or worse, the Doctor—would not agree.

John smiled tentatively. "You saved our lives." He stepped towards her, limping on his bad foot, and Rose knew there was one more thing Bad Wolf could do.

"Martha, can you hold him steady for a moment please?" she asked. When Martha had wrapped her arm around John's waist, Rose knelt on the ground and pressed her hand to his ankle.

John gasped, and Rose knew he could feel the warmth travelling through her hand into his strained ligaments. She left her hand there until the feeling faded, and she knew the injury was healed.

Then she sat back on her haunches and smiled up at him. "Better?"

He rotated his ankle a few times, then put his weight on it. "How did you do that?" he whispered.

 _Bugger._ Healing him had been so instinctive, she hadn't stopped to consider how many questions it might raise. _Should've just waited until we were in the TARDIS,_ she thought ruefully.

She tried to come up with a conceivable answer while she got to her feet, but some soft sound caught her ear. She whirled around, keeping her body in between John and the unknown source of the noise.

Timothy Latimer stepped into the clearing, his hands held out in front of him. "It's just me, Miss Smith."

Rose narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here, Tim?" she asked, her voice sharp.

She tensed when he reached into his pocket, but he smiled reassuringly. "I came to give you this." He opened his hand and the silver fob watch glinted in the moonlight.

John's mouth fell open. "Is that the watch you were looking for, Marion?"

Martha snatched it out of his hand before Rose could answer. "Yes, it is. Why did you take it, Tim?"

He looked at her, then back at Rose. "I heard you in the library this morning. You were worried about a watch. And then I saw it in Mr. Tyler's study. It spoke to me, told me to take it so you would be safe."

Anger swept through Rose. The Doctor was always doing things to keep her safe, and this time, it could have killed him. "I could have kept the watch hidden myself," she said through clenched teeth.

Tim shook his head. "No… I don't understand, but I think if you'd had the watch, the Family would have thought you were the Doctor."

And then Rose remembered how they'd reacted when she unleashed Bad Wolf. _"You took on female form…"_ Perhaps holding the watch would have triggered enough of the time energy Bad Wolf had left behind to draw the attention of the Family.

She nodded, then looked at Martha. "Can I…"

Martha's fingers flexed around the watch, and for a moment, Rose thought she would refuse. Then she sighed and handed it over.

The Doctor's voice whispered through Rose's mind the moment she touched the watch. She closed her eyes and listened to his promises that this was almost over—in only a few minutes, they would be together again.

 _But let go of Bad Wolf, love. We're safe now._

Rose nodded. The TARDIS pulled back from their connection, and her awareness of time and space went with her.

John glared at the watch in Marion's hand. Only an hour ago, he'd been anticipating an evening with Marion in his arms. That was lost, and it was easy to place the blame for that on this watch.

"Would someone mind telling me what's so important about this watch?" he demanded, not caring if there was a bite in his voice.

Marion sighed and opened her eyes, and a tiny pang of guilt hit him when her soft smile disappeared. She closed her hand around the watch and looked over at Martha and Latimer.

"I think I need to talk to John alone."

Latimer nodded quickly. "I should get back to the school before anyone realises I'm gone."

Marion caught his hand before he left. "Tim… thank you." To John's surprise, her eyes glistened with emotion.

Latimer smiled and shook her hand. "You're welcome, Miss Tyler."

Marion chuckled as he disappeared down the path, then she turned to Martha. The maid sighed and pointed at the nearby shed. "I'll be inside."

John frowned; why would she want to go into an old shed in the middle of the night? But he and Marion were alone now, and he didn't care about anything but getting an answer to his question about the watch.

"Marion, please. What is going on?" He paced up and down the path. "Why are you so focused on this watch?"

She opened her hand and brushed her thumb over the watch cover. The strange circular engravings tugged at John's mind, but he couldn't imagine where he would have seen it before.

Then she took a deep breath and looked at him. "This watch… this watch is you. You're not John Tyler. Your name is the Doctor. All your dreams are real, love."

"That's impossible," John insisted. "I'm human." He put his hands over his heart. "One human heart, remember?"

The wind whistled through the trees and caught one of Marion's curls, blowing it into her face. She tucked it behind her ear, and John waited while she decided what to say next.

"You became human to hide from the Family of Blood."

She gestured at the bodies behind her, and John remembered that they'd said they were looking for the Doctor.

"You hid your mind, your memories of your past, in here. And if you open the watch, the Doctor will come back."

John shoved his hands into his pockets when Marion tried to hand him the watch. "I don't want that life." His mouth was dry, and he had to swallow before he could continue. "I want this life, with my students, my books, and—"

Marion looked at him expectantly when he cut himself off mid-sentence. "What do you want, John?"

John could hear his heart pounding in his ears. His hands trembled as he reached for her, cupping her face between them. This face, he'd seen her face in his dreams before they'd even met.

"Rose."

She gasped.

"You _are_ Rose, aren't you?"

Rose nodded, and a sob caught in John's chest. He pulled her into his arms and clenched his eyes shut to hold back tears. "You were gone," he said hoarsely. "You fell, and I couldn't find you."

Rose pressed two kisses to his chest, where he knew his hearts would be. "I know. That's why I had to find you." She looked up at him, and the fierce love in her eyes stunned him. "I told you once, I'm never going to leave you."

She stepped out of his arms, and his grumble of protest died in his throat when she held up the watch. "I came back to you. Please come back to me."

Rose held her breath until John took the watch. He stared at it for a long moment, then looked at her with a bittersweet smile on his face.

"Rose Tyler… I love you."

His thumb pressed down on the catch, and the watch cover flipped open. Gold light floated out of the watch and streamed into his eyes, making them glow for a second.

 _Looks like regeneration,_ she thought. _Only the energy is going into him instead of coming out of him._

The last of the light disappeared and the watch fell to the ground, dropped heedlessly by the hand that reached for Rose. The previously muted bond pulsed to life in her head, and she leaned into the Doctor's telepathic embrace, even as she tilted her head back to accept his kiss.

 _I missed you,_ he told her as his cool lips met hers. _I missed you so much._

His hands clenched in her heavy wool coat, and Rose soothed him over the bond. _I know, Doctor. But I'm here now._

He nipped at her lip, and she opened her mouth beneath his. _Don't leave me again,_ he begged as his tongue brushed against hers.

Rose ran her fingers through his hair, then stroked the nape of his neck. _I promise, Doctor. Never again._

The desperate edge in the kiss softened to tenderness. Rose swayed into him, and his hands unclenched to gather her as close as possible.

Tears pricked under her eyelids, and when she felt something cold and wet, she assumed the Doctor was crying, too. But when she pulled out of the kiss, she saw fluffy snowflakes clinging to his hair.

"It's beautiful," Rose breathed as she watched the first snowflakes drift to the ground.

The Doctor nodded, then he winked at her. "And it's real snow this time."

Rose laughed at the memory of that Christmas, so long ago. She stepped back and rested her hands on his chest. "And what are you going to do next?" she asked, almost exactly like she had then.

A slow smile spread over the Doctor's face, and he turned and held his hand out. "Let's go home."

Excitement and relief coursed over the bond as they walked towards the TARDIS hand-in-hand. Neither of them would have to go on own their own any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor beamed when Rose pushed open the shed door and gestured to the tall blue box in the corner. "Oh, yes!" The TARDIS light winked at him, and he laughed when the ship's excitement surrounded him.

He jogged over to her and patted the door while Rose retrieved her key. "That's right, old girl. We're all back where we belong."

A moment later, Rose's key swung in front of him, dangling from the chain she wore it on. "You do it," she told him.

He snatched it up and held his breath when he slid it into the lock. Rose took his hand as the door opened, and they stepped inside together.

The Doctor bounced on his toes, then jogged up the ramp to the console. "Into the Vortex, I think." He twisted a few dials and listened to the pitch of the TARDIS' hum change. "We all deserve to rest a bit after this trip." He caught a glimpse of his grey suit and grimaced. "Not to mention a change of wardrobe."

 _Doctor._

Rose didn't sound happy or excited, and a knot tightened in the Doctor's stomach. He slowly looked over at her, then followed her subtle nod up to where Martha was standing. She was on the gantry, with a bag beside her.

He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. In all the times he had imagined Rose coming home, he'd avoided thinking about this inevitable awkward moment.

Rose frownedwhen she recognised the wave of guilt he projected. She turned towards him and rested her hand on his arm. _You know why she's going?_

The Doctor nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. In that one gesture, she easily saw the months he'd spent ignoring Martha's feelings for him. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head slightly.

When the corners of his mouth turned up in a sheepish smile, Rose knew he understood. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. _I'll let you say goodbye. Come find me when you're done._

She climbed the stairs, aware of Martha's wary gaze. At the entrance to the corridor, she pulled the other woman into a hug. "Thank you for taking care of him," she whispered.

Martha hugged her back. "Of course."

When Rose disappeared down the corridor behind her, Martha took a deep breath and picked up her bag. As she walked down the stairs, she went over the speech she'd planned while packing.

She set her suitcase down by the ramp, then turned around to look at the Doctor. His sad eyes followed her as she walked towards the console, but rather than tempting her to change her mind, that only strengthened her resolve. The regret and guilt she saw were real, but nothing like his grief over losing Rose.

She lifted her chin slightly. "It's time for me to go home."

"I know."

"I always said I was going back to finish school and take my exams."

The Doctor nodded, even though they both knew it had been months since she'd mentioned school or her exams.

"I just kept putting it off, because travelling with you was so amazing. But while we were in Farringham, I realised that if something happened and I were stuck in 1913, I would never be able to be a doctor. I don't want to lose that."

She hesitated and glanced down the corridor Rose had taken before looking at him again. "Plus, now that Rose is back, I expect you'll want some time alone to reconnect. And you know what they say: 'Two's company…'"

The Doctor tugged on his ear as he fought the instinct to avoid the awkward conversation they were skirting the edges of. Acknowledging Martha's feelings… He pursed his lips.

He really just wanted to take her home, say goodbye, and go find Rose. But Martha deserved better than that, and Rose would be disappointed if he were that dismissive.

He licked his lip and cleared his throat. "Martha, I'm sorry," he said. He looked directly at her, willing her to see his sincerity. "I thought… At first, I thought you understood. Because I'd told you about Rose, that we were together." He shrugged. "By the time I realised you thought I was just on the rebound, instead of grieving…"

Martha crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "You could have said something."

"I could have." He ran a hand over his face, then raked it through his hair. "But not without talking about what had really happened. Not without explaining that Rose…"

The memory of those first few weeks without her was still brutally sharp and painful. The Doctor closed his eyes and swallowed back the lump in his throat, focusing on Rose's comforting presence in his mind.

Then he looked at Martha again. "I should have told you, but I didn't know how."

Martha rubbed at her temple, then shrugged. "And I should have listened when you said it wasn't going to be like that. We both made mistakes, and we can't go back and fix it now, even if we do have a time machine."

"No crossing timelines," the Doctor said automatically.

"Except for cheap tricks," Martha finished, and they shared a smile. Then she straightened her shoulders and shook her head. "Since we can't go back, we have to go forward. And this is me, going forward. I've got my whole life waiting for me back at home. My exams, and being a doctor."

"You are going to be an amazing doctor," he said genuinely.

Martha's back straightened, and a small smile crossed her face. "I am, yeah. Because even though I spent a lot of time travelling with you feeling like I was second best, do you know what? I am pretty good."

The Doctor laughed. "You're more than just pretty good, Martha. You are brilliant." He moved around the console and adjusted the controls. "Let's see… London… your flat… just a few hours after Lazarus."

Martha bit back a protest. Going back so far felt like she was wiping her entire time with the Doctor away. But the whole reason she'd agreed to go with him was because he'd promised to bring her right back to when he'd picked her up.

The Doctor wrapped his hand around the dematerialisation lever and looked at her. "Ready, Miss Jones?"

The familiarity brought a smile to her lips, and she grabbed onto the console. "Ready, Mr. Smith."

Martha's last trip in the TARDIS was the opposite of her first. The ship moved through time and space with all the grace she'd rarely shown, and their landing was so soft, Martha hardly believed she was home.

She pulled the TARDIS doors open. They were in her flat, exactly where he'd parked before. She set her bag down next to the laundry drying rack, then turned around to look at the Doctor.

"Back at the beginning," he said quietly.

Martha sighed when he looked away and scratched at his sideburn. The awkwardness settling between them right now was exactly what she hadn't wanted.

To her surprise, after only a moment, he met her gaze and opened his arms for a hug, which she gladly accepted. More than anything, the Doctor was her best friend, and she didn't want to lose that.

He smiled down at her when she stepped back. "Thank you for taking care of me, Martha. I know it wasn't always easy."

Martha blinked, then felt her mouth widen into a full smile. "I'll tell you how you can pay me back," she said, reaching into her pocket. She handed him her mobile and smirked at the confusion on his face. "Keep that, because I'm not having you disappear. If that rings, _when_ that rings, you'd better come running. Got it?"

A small smile crept across the Doctor's face, and she knew he understood what she was saying—this was not goodbye, not forever.

He held the phone up. "Got it."

Martha pointed at him. "I'll see you again, mister," she promised.

Then she stepped back into her old life, took a deep breath, and closed the TARDIS doors behind her.

oOoOo

The Doctor sighed as he tossed Martha's mobile into a drawer. Her time with him hadn't exactly been a glamorous adventure, and then he'd capped it off by leaving her to fend for herself as a maid in 1913. Not his best offering.

 _Although…_ He tilted his head as he felt timelines shifting. Somehow, he had a feeling that things could have been much, much worse. Both Martha and the Earth had just escaped a must-not-happen.

He shook his head and flicked a few switches to send them back into the Vortex. Neither the past nor the future could distract him from the seemingly impossible present.

Rose was home.

The spot in the Doctor's mind that had ached for so long now glowed warm and bright, and he followed the tug of the bond to the library. He stopped in the open doorframe and felt the knot of loneliness in his chest finally loosen, letting him breathe easily for the first time since Rose had fallen through the Void.

Rose stood in front of a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, still in the red velvet gown she'd worn for the dance. The fairy lights on the tree cast a halo around her, reminding him of Bad Wolf—the same Bad Wolf that had saved his life tonight.

He ruthlessly quashed his curiosity. He was dying to know how she'd done it, but the desire to hold her was far greater.

"You know," he said as he crossed the room, "John was looking forward to dancing with you tonight." The tip of Rose's tongue appeared between her teeth, and the Doctor's hearts skipped a beat. "Dance with me?"

Rose took his outstretched hand, and the Doctor's breath caught at the familiar sensation. The Christmas music shifted to something soft and romantic, and he pulled his wife into his arms and spun her into the dance.

Her quiet joy infused the bond, and the Doctor's lingering fear that this was a dream faded. Not one of his dreams had successfully mimicked the way her mind felt against his.

Rose moved her free hand to brush against his temple, and the sensation of oneness deepened. The Doctor's throat closed up at the perfection of feeling her in his mind again. He reached out for her over the bond, pulling her as close as possible.

Rose gasped, and the Doctor stopped moving long enough to wipe away the tear that trickled down her cheek. She sighed and turned her head to kiss his hand.

"I felt the bond heal the moment you arrived," he told her as they started dancing again. "Wherever you were, there was a tug inside my mind pulling me towards you."

She tilted her head. "Is that why you showed up in the library that first day?"

The Doctor nodded. "When I heard your voice, I told myself it couldn't be you. Then I turned around, and there you were—the woman of my dreams."

It was on the tip of Rose's tongue to ask what kind of dreams he'd had about her, but she didn't want to break the tender atmosphere. Instead, she nestled into his embrace and rested her head on his chest.

His hearts beat steadily beneath her cheek, and she closed her eyes to focus on the sound. "I missed your heartbeats," she murmured. "I couldn't sleep for weeks after, without being able to hear them."

The sudden wave of regret the Doctor projected took Rose by surprise. His arm tightened around her waist, and Rose felt his lips brush against her hair—and still she waited for him to tell her what he was thinking.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got back," he said finally.

 _Ah._

They stopped dancing, and Rose stepped back just far enough to look up at him. She wanted him to see the same sincerity in her eyes that he could feel over the bond.

"You were here, Doctor." She reached up and traced the arch of his left eyebrow. "John Tyler might not have had your two hearts or your Janis Joplin coat, but he was still you. He was the same man you always are, no matter what you look like."

The Doctor moved his hands to her hips, and Rose shivered when his thumbs rubbed absently over the top of her hipbone. The light in his eyes shifted when he realised how he was affecting her.

"And who am I, Rose?"

Rose carded her hand through his hair, letting her nails scrape against his sensitive scalp. The Doctor hummed in pleasure, but his eyes looked steadily into hers while he waited for an answer.

There would only ever be one answer to that question, and she willed him to feel how deeply she believed it. "You're my Doctor."

The love coursing over the bond made Rose weak in the knees, and the Doctor tightened his hold on her as she swayed into his arms. "Always," he whispered as he leaned down to kiss her.


End file.
